


How To Build A Family

by MercurialMagpie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Romance, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Kid Fic, M/M, Unrepentant Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:06:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8816260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialMagpie/pseuds/MercurialMagpie
Summary: Tony comes back from his latest kidnapping with something -err, someone- that turns the lives of the whole team upside down.





	1. There and Back Again

**Author's Note:**

> I entirely blame my uterus for this one. When it doesn't get its way, it gets... weird. Don't worry, I'm still working on Training Of, I have plenty of material there, but this wouldn't leave me alone, so here we are.
> 
> I have come to realize that straight-up MCU is tough to write in, lacking a lot of the smaller and more day-to-day villains of the comics and shows. Thus, this story and probably most of the rest that I write (excluding Training Of, that's MCU-only) will be in a universe I think of as MCU+, which is basically what we would have if Disney/Marvel Studios had had, for the last 20 years, the rights to and development budget for X-Men, FF, etc, and a commitment to good TV as well as good movies. (The Chiklis/Alba FF, btw. Just pretend the Storms had a grandparent who was Steve's cousin or something. :) ) I may draw bits from 616 as well...

Tony was only missing for a week, but it was a week that would be forever etched in the minds of all the Avengers as one of their busiest ever. Mere hours after the Iron Man armor was found half-assembled in a parking garage, Thor got word that Loki was making his latest bid to take over Asgard, and less than a day after he left, Dr Doom launched his newest ill-advised invasion of New York. Reed Richards assured them loftily that the Fantastic Four had things under control; inevitably, an hour later Sue Storm was calling to request their help. 

Even as he was ordering the team into uniform, Steve was cursing the need to pull them off the search for Tony. He cursed even more when, after several hours of battle and Doom pulling some sort of weird slow-motion escape, it became clear that the over-powered half of their reduced team was going to have to join in on giving chase, and head to Latveria. He sent Clint and Nat back to the Tower with orders that Tony was their number one priority no matter what, and he and Bruce climbed into the Fantastijet and took off.

*A*A*

Black Widow stormed through the converted warehouse, picking off every single yellow-suited figure that dared cross her path. She barreled past the stacks of supplies until she found the stairway they were all emerging from, then down a level to what looked like nothing more or less than a crude prison. Gambling on what she knew of cut-rate villains like these, she bypassed all the others, kicked open the door to the last cell in the row, and found Tony standing there, still wearing the tattered remains of the suit he'd been grabbed in, one hand manacled to the wall. He gave her a slightly manic grin. “There you are! I have been waiting for you for _days_ , young lady...” She rolled her eyes, and he stretched the chain as taut as it would go.

Nat shot the chain to shards, then gestured Tony out of the room. She tapped her comm on. “I've got him, how are we doing with those explosives?” They made for the stairwell as fast as Tony could move.

Hawkeye's voice came back to her. “Setting the last of them now, heading topside in the next minute or two.” She nodded, even knowing he couldn't see her, and swung smoothly through the doorway at the end of the hall, and up the stairs.

But Tony was moving downward instead. “We can't go. Not yet. I have to go get...” 

She huffed and followed him. “Stark. Did you not hear the part about explosives?” The door at the bottom of the stairs opened, and three more goons in those damn bright yellow haz-mat suits rushed out. Nat coolly shot each of them in the head, and Tony vaulted the falling bodies as if they were merely furniture. 

At least he had the good sense to go through the door in a crouch, just in case there were armed goons on the other side. “Oh, I heard. And I'm all for blowing this place to hell, but we can't leave him behind.” He moved quickly through the large room, but Nat had to pause, overwhelmed by the _wrongness_ of the place. To one side were the usual long tables and tall stools of a lab, but the other side was a row of clear tubes, each maybe a meter and a half tall by half a meter wide, all of them full of a slightly milky liquid and... She was pretty sure those were fetuses. She was starting to get a very nasty idea about what this place was. 

She kicked back into motion, just in time to see Tony re-emerge from a back room, a blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms. He caught her eye, and pulled back the blanket enough to expose a small head covered in dark, curly hair. Her nasty idea grew into an evil suspicion while Tony cooed to the little one in his arms. “Hey, there, _bello_ , I told you we'd get out of here, didn't I? Now you can come and live with me, and I can be your Papa for real, _si_?” He hurried them back through the lab, keeping the boy's attention on him. “This is your Aunt Nat, she's come to rescue us, she's really good at rescuing.”

Nat spared one glance for a big brown eye that regarded her over Tony's bicep, and allowed herself to smile, just a little, before getting back to business. “We're headed for the roof, and we'll want to move fast.” Tony nodded just as decisively, and hustled up the stairs at a fairly impressive pace. Nat tapped her comm. “Moving up the west staircase. All resistance subdued. Begin pre-flight.” She was a step behind him, firing around him whenever one of the Bee-Suit Boys popped up.

Clint sounded aggrieved. “Took you long enough. What, did you stop for tea on the way? I'm already halfway through pre-flight. And this remote is burning a hole in my pocket. C'mon, already.” Tony burst through the roof access door, took a quick look around, then headed directly for the back hatch of the Quinjet, which was standing just open enough for him to slip in. Clint glanced around from the pilot's seat. “Better strap in, this take off's gonna be rough.”

Nat fired one last burst at yet another wave of goons, then darted into the jet and slapped the button to close the hatch the rest of the way. She didn't stop moving until she could slide into the co-pilot's seat and accept the remote detonator from Clint. He nodded at her and finished pre-flight.

Tony, meanwhile, sat in one of the jumpseats just behind the cockpit, set the boy in his arms in the next seat over, and started buckling his seatbelt. “OK, _bello_ , this part might be a bit scary, but we're in good hands, ok? That's Uncle Clint up there, he's the best there is with a plane like this, but things might be a little crazy anyway, which is why we're doing this.” He buckled his own belts quickly. “OK, Uncle Clint, we're ready.”

The Quinjet was already lifting off, bullets pinging off its hull as the goons tried futilely to stop them. As soon as they had enough altitude, Clint nodded to Nat, and she pushed the button. Below them, the whole sprawling building blew upward and outward in a rush of heat and sound. The boy whimpered and burrowed into his blanket, and Tony reached over to stroke his hair again, murmuring reassuring nonsense.

Clint got the jet to full altitude, then set the auto-pilot and unstrapped. He came around in front of Tony and the bundle of blanket, and crouched down. “Hey, Tony. Good to see you. How you feelin'? And who's this little guy?” His smile was friendly, but the look he shot Tony was deeply suspicious. Nat quietly got up and shifted to one of the facing jumpseats.

Tony pulled the blanket away a bit, revealing dark curls, big brown eyes, and an over-all adorable toddler, who regarded Clint solemnly. Tony went back to stroking the toddler's hair. “Well, you know, it turns out, AIM got into the cloning business. Oh, probably three or four years ago, now. Even had some success. Buncha viable embryos, maybe half a dozen infants. Only the experiment was starting to fall apart. They needed a new dose of genius DNA to play around with. Thus my fun little kidnapping.” His voice had been getting tighter and tighter with each phrase, and now he stopped to take a couple of deep breaths. “Anyway, Clint, Nat, I would like you to meet the newest addition to our family. This is Mario.” Mario giggled, and Tony broke out in the sunniest smile Clint had ever seen out of him. He turned the smile on his clone. “You like that, _bello_? You're Mario, and I'm Papa, and you're going to come live with me, and all of your aunts and uncles are going to spoil you rotten.”

Mario giggled again, gazing back up at him. “Totten!”

Tony kissed the top of his head. “That's right. Utterly totten. You wanna say hi to Uncle Clint and Aunt Nat? Practice those manners I was teaching you?”

Mario eyed them for a moment, then smiled shyly. “Hi, Unc'lint. Hi, Aun'nat.” His eyes widened quickly, then squinched shut, and he burrowed back into the blanket. 

Tony smiled indulgently at the pile of cloth next to him, then turned his smile on his teammates. “Thank you both for finding us, getting us out of there.” The smile turned wry. “Sorry about this little addition to our lives.”

Clint glanced back at Nat, though he knew her feelings on this would be the same as his, then back at Tony. “Don't you dare say sorry. He's yours, so he's ours, and I for one am happy to be Uncle Clint.” He held out his hand. “Hi, there, Mario, nice to meet you.” One chocolate-brown eye regarded his face, then his hand, then darted a look at Tony, who nodded. One small hand wormed out of the folds of cloth and clasped his briefly, then it was withdrawn with another giggle. Clint grinned at him and stood. “Good. So, all we've got on board is MREs and bottled water, but that should be enough to tide you over, we'll be home in like an hour. Which kind you want?”

*A*A*

As soon as they got within sight of Avengers Tower, Tony brought Mario to the window and showed him. Tony being Tony, that led to pointing out other landmarks, and rambling about the best places for pizza and hot dogs, and an algorithm he was working on to rate pizza places... Mario just stared, wide-eyed, out the window, his tiny left hand locked around Tony's right wrist, while Tony gestured with his left.

Clint set them down on the penthouse landing pad and looked back to see Tony already carrying Mario out the back hatch and inside, Nat half a step behind them. He did a quick shut down and hustled after them. He was pleased but not surprised to get into the living room and see Steve and Bruce entering from the other end.

Steve grinned and moved nearly close enough to Tony to touch him, before pulling himself to a halt. “You're back! And in one piece?”

Tony eyed him up and down. “I feel like that should be my line.” Steve was still in his uniform, but it was torn, with dried mud flaking off here and there, and more than one blood splatter. He glanced at Bruce, who was in clean clothes, but had that weariness about him that he generally got post-Hulk. Tony raised an eyebrow. “You boys been to the wars?”

Steve sighed and scrubbed at his sweat-matted hair. “Just got back from Latveria. So, yeah, I guess.” He paused, frowning just a little at Mario. “And, ah, who is this?” He tried a small smile.

Mario giggled at him and waved one little hand. Tony grinned down at the boy, then up at Steve and Bruce. “This is Mario. He's going to be living with us. _Bello_ , this is Uncle Steve, and that's Uncle Bruce. Wanna say hi?”

Mario nodded eagerly and held out his left hand. “Hi, Uncka 'Teve.” Steve broke out in a huge grin and shook his hand. After a moment, Mario took his hand back and used it to wave. “Hi, Uncka B'uce.” Bruce smiled at him, and Mario grinned big for a moment, then his eyes widened and screwed shut, and he turned to bury his face in Tony's shoulder.

Tony stroked his hair calmingly, and smiled over his head. “Yeah, he's still pretty shy, really. He's had a rough time of it. But that was real good, kiddo, you're doing good. You want a tour of our house, or you want a bath and some sleep?” As soon as he mentioned it, Tony realized how tired he actually was, and he didn't try to hold back a yawn. “Papa is definitely voting for option B, you have no idea how amazing an actual mattress is, you're gonna love it.”

Steve frowned his Captain America Cares frown. “Not that I'm going to discourage you from getting sleep, but you- you both -should probably get checked by medical before-”

Tony chopped his free hand sideways. “No medical. No labs. He's had enough-” He pressed his lips together and glared.

There was a slight ping from overhead. “Err, Sir, I believe I can help with some of what you need. Welcome back, by the way, we're all very glad you're home.” Mario gave a start and looked around quickly.

Tony stroked his hair. “It's ok, little one, it's just the last person you're going to be meeting tonight. Ah, thanks, J, it's good to be back. Now, Mario, this one's a little tougher, cause he doesn't have a body, but you can look up at the ceiling if you want, everyone else does.” He gestured to one of the cameras in the corner of the room. “So, say hi to JARVIS, ok?” 

Mario waved in the direction of the camera. “Hi, Jawvice.”

JARVIS sounded distinctly pleased. “Very nice to meet you, Master Mario. I hope you will enjoy living here with us. I want you to know that if you have any questions, you may ask me and I will do my best to answer, and if you have any needs, I will do my best to have them fulfilled.”

Mario looked at Tony in confusion, and Tony laughed gently at him. “I'll explain it to you again later, baby, it's ok. J, what did you mean about helping?”

“I believe that if you unwrap Master Mario from the blanket, and set him on his feet, I should be able to assess most of his vital information fairly quickly.”

Tony nodded. “Good compromise. OK, kiddo, here goes nothing.” He crouched down, setting Mario on his feet but staying down at his level, and looked him in the eye. Tony unwrapped the blanket and tossed it to the side with an expression of disgust, revealing for the first time that Mario was notably thin and dirty, and wearing nothing but a diaper that seemed too small. Tony was aware of soft gasps from his teammates, but he ignored them in favor of keeping Mario's gaze. “Doing alright, _bello_?”

Mario blinked at him and shivered a little. “Sweepy.”

Tony clasped the little hands in his seemingly giant ones. “I know, bedtime soon. J, we done?”

“Yes, sir. Would you like the data?”

Tony refocused on Bruce. “Nah, let Mr Soft Sciences over there deal with it, I can't even think right now.” He scooped Mario back up into his arms and looked around at his teammates. “I am very glad that we're all back and whole. Good night.”

Steve made to say something else, but Nat caught his eye and shook her head. He scowled but subsided, and a chorus of “G'night, Tony,” “Good night, Mario” followed them up the stairs as Tony staggered across the penthouse and the master bedroom into the bathroom.

Tony set Mario on his feet on the bathroom floor, and turned on the bathtub faucet, playing around to find the right temperature. Then he turned, peeled the boy's diaper off, and dropped it in the trash. “OK, kiddo, first things first. No more diapers, this is a toilet.” He lifted him onto the seat. “You sit here to pee and poop. Go ahead. Well, and when you're a bit taller I'll show you how to stand and aim, but that can definitely wait. OK, there you go, good boy. Now, when you're done, you take the toilet paper, like this, and you wipe, yeah, just like that, good.” He lifted him back off the seat. “Now, this part's important. Next you close the lid.” They did so together. “And then you grab this part here and flush. It's gonna be a big noise, maybe a little scary...” They pushed the lever, and Mario giggled at the noise. “Oh, boy, you're going to love explosions soon, aren't you?”

Mario giggled again, sounding a little loopy, or, well, more loopy than three year olds usually were. “Sploson!”

Tony sighed. “Yep, definitely my kid. Now, listen. Usually, when you're done with the toilet, you wash your hands. Hmm, we're going to have to get a step-stool or something in here for you, help you get up places. We're not going to worry about hand washing right now, though, cause we're washing everything. Hop in!” He lifted Mario into the tub, shut off the water, stripped off all his clothes, and climbed into the tub himself. He sighed in pleasure and relief. “Ahh, home sweet bathtub. How I've missed you.” Mario laughed and smacked both palms down on the water as hard as he could. Droplets sprayed everywhere, including Tony's face, and he sputtered and spat. “Oh, yeah? That how we're playing it?” He smacked his own palm down, just hard enough to spray Mario lightly. Within moments, they were in a full-on water war, and both laughing uproariously. 

Mario's burst of energy ran out pretty quickly, and he subsided to blinking sleepily. Tony leaned in and kissed the top of his head. “There you go, _bello_. Let me just wash us both real quick, and we can get into bed, ok? Just stay still...” He took a tiny amount of shampoo, worked it through the boy's hair as gently as he could, then shampooed his own hair, using the leftover suds to scrub their bodies haphazardly. He pulled the plug on the tub, then grabbed the shower head and rinsed them both off. “You are being so well behaved, little one, my sweet boy...” He grabbed a couple of towels, wrapped one around Mario just under the armpits and the other around his own waist, then held out a hand. “C'mon, baby boy, bedtime for all the good little Starks.” 

He led Mario over to the bed and plopped him onto it, then went over to the dresser and dug out pajama pants for himself and a t-shirt for Mario. He toweled them both off and got them dressed and tucked in, and sighed as he started to really relax for the first time in a week. “Tomorrow, we can get you a bed of your own, and figure out where to put it. Mmm, and some clothes, and toys, and oh so much... Hmm, JARVIS, could we maybe get a delivery for when we wake up, a couple outfits for him, I dunno, some toys, I guess. We'll go shopping for real later, hmm, kiddo? Oh!” He jolted a bit, waking a dozing Mario, whose eyes darted around warily. “Oh, no, it's ok, baby, nothing bad. We're safe, it's ok, I just wanted to make sure you remembered about the toilet.”

Mario frowned in thought, then nodded. “Toi'et!”

Tony smiled at him. “And you think you can manage to make it there when you need to, we don't need to put a diaper on you tonight?”

He nodded again, though hesitantly. “Can.” He yawned and blinked some more.

Tony yawned right back. “Then we're good, we're home... JARVIS, lights to ten percent... G'night...”

JARVIS sounded almost fond as he dimmed the lights. “I'm glad you're home, sir, young sir. Sleep well.”


	2. The Art Of Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kinda turned into The Tony Monologues. Sorry? There should be more input from other characters later, but Tony does like to talk, we shall see if he can share the spotlight.

Tony's first thought on waking was _home, safe, with Mario... no Mario! Shit, where is he?!_ He sat bolt upright, his head swinging wildly around, searching. Almost immediately, his eyes locked on to a nearly identical pair, peering up over the side of the bed. He pressed his hand to the arc reactor. “There you are. Scared me for a second, _bello_.”

Mario blinked at him. “Toi'et, Papa? Can't.” He started to tear up a little.

Tony was up out of bed like a shot, startling Mario into taking a step or two back, but the boy's legs and the front of his shirt were dry. They blinked at each other for a moment as Tony got his sleepy brain back online, then he nodded. “Can't get up on it, huh? OK, I'll help you with that, c'mon.” He held out his hand, and Mario took it with a tiny smile. They toddled into the bathroom, where Tony pulled off Mario's sleep shirt, lifted the toilet lid and set the boy on the seat. “There you go. Do what you need to, and may I say, I am very proud of you for holding it until I woke up, that's very good. OK, good, now wipe, yes, and you don't have to worry about flushing, we'll do that when I'm done.” He lifted Mario onto the counter and used the toilet himself. “You just sit tight there for a minute, let me just do this. OK, lid, flushing, and now we wash hands.” He washed both their hands. “Oh, and look at that, it's my toothbrush. Missed this!” He prepped it. “We'll have to get you one, and teach you how to use it, but you've got those baby teeth, they're going to fall out anyway, doesn't matter if they rot first.” He grinned and stuck the brush in his mouth. Mario watched, fascinated, as he brushed, spat, and rinsed. “Oh, wow, sooooo much better. Now I'm ready for food. Let's get dressed and head down, huh?” He scooped up his son and carried him out into the bedroom.

Tony had, in his panic earlier, still managed to register a couple of shopping bags at the foot of the bed, and now he sat Mario on the edge of the bed while he investigated. One was full of the sort of toys that made a lot of noise and flashing light, and Tony mentally glared at Barton and vowed to leave the damn things in the vents whenever he could get away with it. The other had clothing, and Tony laid it all out to assess. “Oh, good, they got you some choices. Let's start with some undies.” He tore open the package and pulled out a couple of pairs. “You want the blue stripes or the green dots?” He waggled each one as he mentioned it, and Mario pointed to the blue. “Blue and stripey it is. Here's how we do this, one foot in here, good, the other one in there, right, and then up and over your butt.”

Mario wiggled around, trying to get used to the new sensations. “No?”

Tony sighed, making an exaggerated face of disappointment. “Sorry, kiddo, that's the way the world works. When you're older, you can choose to go commando, but you're a little kid, and people expect little kids to wear undies and all the rest of this.” He gestured toward the outer clothes, and Mario made a face. “I know, but you'll get used to it. And then we can start to talk about when it's ok to not wear the clothes, and it'll be better. For now, though, you want the jeans or the black pants?” He held up each as he named it, and Mario pointed hesitantly to the jeans. “OK, jeans it is, same as the undies, one leg and then the other. There you go, getting the hang of this nice and quick. Hopefully you'll be able to do it all for yourself pretty soon, but I won't push. Good news for you, we're not worrying about socks or shoes. How you feeling?”

Mario plucked at the fabric at his knee. “Papa... no?” He turned big sad eyes on Tony. “No deans?”

Tony gave him a shaky smile. “Can you just try? Just for today? We can talk about it again at bedtime, but for today, can you wear the clothes and see?”

The little face scowled into thought, and then the little shoulders heaved up and down in a huge sigh. “Can twy. Today.”

The bigger Stark's shoulders also heaved up and down. “Thank you, baby. I know it's a lot of change right now, but it's better, isn't it? You're happier here, right?” Mario's eyes got big, and then he threw himself forward into a hug with Tony. Tony cuddled him close. “I've got you, _bello_ , I've got you, I'm never letting go.” He stroked his hair for a moment, then grinned. “But don't think this is getting you out of putting on a shirt. OK, let's see here.” He peered over Mario's shoulder. “We have, green with dinosaurs, blue with boats, or red with- hmm, nope, that's not funny, Uncle Clint, we will be having words.” He glared at the red shirt, which had on the front a robot. A cute, cartoony red robot with a golden mask. A robot that did not, in fact, look anything like Iron Man. He stuffed the shirt in the bag with the toys, silently swearing revenge tenfold on Barton, then took a deep breath, refocused, set Mario down next to him again, and offered the green and blue shirts.

Mario tried a pout, looking from the shirts to his Papa with big sad eyes, but Tony just waited until he sighed in resignation as only a toddler can. “Bwue.”

Tony couldn't help chuckling and kissing the top of his head. “Drama queen. You are going to fit in _so_ well around here. OK, arms up.” He grudgingly raised his arms, and Tony worked the shirt on. “There you go. Doing very well, kiddo.” He ran his hands through Mario's hair, which didn't visibly change the tousled curls, so he quickly stopped trying. “I think you're done. Good boy. Now just sit here for a minute while Papa gets his clothes on, and we'll go get some food, ok?” Tony pulled out the first boxers, jeans, and t-shirt he encountered in his drawers, pulled them on, and picked Mario up. “There we go. Now we match, let's go eat.”

When they got to the team kitchen, Steve was at the stove with a couple of frying pans, and Bruce was sitting at the table with a tablet and a tea mug. Tony set Mario down in one of the chairs and went to get and fill a coffee mug and a juice glass. “Morning, boys. Where's the rest of the team?” He gulped his coffee like the life-giving elixir it was, then refilled the mug and sipped.

Steve smiled at them, only a _little_ nervously. “Good morning Tony, Mario. Thor was called back to Asgard while you were gone, otherwise he would have been in on your rescue, Nat and Clint are in our gym, setting up the climbing equipment. Eggs?”

Tony glanced at him sharply. “Climbing equipment? Is this for my child? Because-”

Bruce sighed. “Tony. We were very careful, it's all age-appropriate, it's not like we're-”

Tony glared. “Testing him?” He paused, heaved a sigh, and forced the tension to drain out. “No, ok, you're right. You need to check his gross motor... Honestly, it's probably a little lagging, he didn't get a lot of chance to move around. His fine motor's gonna be great, though, he's already good with wires...” He gave Bruce a significant (and ancient) look, and Bruce nodded solemnly back, his mouth twisting downward and his skin turning faintly green.

Steve cleared his throat abruptly. “I have eggs and pancakes. Who's hungry?” Mario, who had been looking more and more confused and worried, perked up and looked hopeful. Steve smiled at him. “You, huh?” He scooped some scrambled eggs onto a plate he had ready, as evinced by the pile of silver dollar pancakes waiting on it, and set it down in front of the beaming boy. He glanced over at Tony. “Does Papa need to teach you about forks today?”

Tony's mood shifted; he flashed a smirk, then heaved a huge sigh, acting (obviously over-acting) as if the whole thing was a huge hassle. “Yeah, I guess I do. And more manners, too. Little barbarian.” He snagged a couple of forks, then sat next to Mario and set the drinks down. “OK, _bello_ , Uncle Steve did something nice for you, so you say 'thank you', ok?”

Mario nodded, with a tiny scowl of concentration. “Tank oo, Unka Teve.” He gave a beaming grin.

Steve couldn't help grinning back. “You're welcome, kiddo.” He dished out eggs and full-sized pancakes for Tony, set the plate in front of him, and sat to watch them interact.

Tony held out the smaller fork. “Here, you take this, this is a fork.” Mario wrapped his little hand around it. “Good, now, hold it like this...” He shifted the boy's grip around to the proper configuration. “There you go. And then you just stab your food, and put it in your mouth.” He demonstrated with a bite of his own eggs. “Mm, these eggs are good. Thanks, Steve!” The smile he turned on Steve was maybe a bit softer and fonder than he was going for, but the one Steve gave him back more than made up for that. He wrenched his attention back to Mario. “OK, now remember to chew each bite before you swallow, don't want you to choke at breakfast, that would just be ridiculous. Doing good, there, _bello_.” He cut a pancake with the side of his fork and took a bite. “Ooh, and the pancakes are good even without the ssssss...stuff to put on top, which we are not going to mention for stickiness reasons, oh, _bello_ , do you have egg in your eyebrows? How did you even do that?”

Bruce chuckled and passed the napkin holder over. “He's a toddler. I'm pretty sure it's a law of nature that he get his food on his face.”

Mario squirmed away from the napkin Tony was trying to apply to his face, and made grabby hands at his glass. “Papa? Yes?”

Tony picked up the glass. “You want the juice? Here, both hands, now.” He helped him wrap both hands around the glass and raise it to his lips. “This one's orange juice, we'll try some other kinds later, oh, and milk, gotta make sure to get you some milk. Had enough of that? OK, let me see you eat a pancake.” Together they set the glass down, then he watched as Mario stabbed a pancake and shoved it in his mouth. “Good boy. Really enjoy that food. Hmm, now I want to take you to political dinners, see if you can get overpriced food into the eyebrows of society ladies. That'd be fun.” Mario was now double-fisting, stabbing eggs with one hand while grasping pancakes with the other, and shoving both in his mouth enthusiastically. “Yeah, no, you are _not_ ready for polite company yet. Good thing there's nobody around here but Avengers.” Both Steve and Bruce made noises that were too amused to be properly indignant, and Tony glanced at them with dancing eyes. “Just promise me you won't take any lessons in manners from Uncle Clint. I think he actually needs the lessons from you.” Steve outright burst into laughter at that, and Bruce chuckled along. Mario looked worried for a moment, then, wide-eyed, laughed as if he'd never stop. Tony found he was grinning so hard his cheeks hurt.

JARVIS' ping cut through. “Sir, Ms Potts is on her way up. Shall I direct her to your location?”

Tony's smile turned awkward. “Oh, yeah. Pepper. I forgot to call her last night, didn't I? Um, yeah, send her through.”

A minute later, the elevator opened, and Pepper stormed out. “Tony, oh, my God, are you ok? We saw the armor, and we were-”

Tony turned and stood, holding out his arms to her. “I'm here, Pepper-pot, I'm fine.” She rushed over to hug him. “Barely even bruised. They wanted me in one piece. Though there _is_ a bit of a complication...” He stepped out of the hug and gestured to Mario. “Pepper, this is Mario. _Bello_ , this is your Aunt Pepper. Wanna say hi?”

He smiled at her with all the Stark charm. “Hi, Aun'pep!” He held out his arms wide.

Pepper melted and scooped him into a hug, ignoring the crumbs clinging to him. “Nice to meet you, Mario.” She looked at Tony with shining eyes. “After your mother?” He nodded, and she smiled softly, her eyes going misty and far-away. She squeezed the boy longingly for a moment, then set him back on his chair and took a proper look at him. “Wow, you look _just_ like your Daddy, don't you?”

Mario looked at her blankly, then turned uncertainly toward Tony, who ruffled his hair. “Yeah, you look just like Papa. People are going to tell you that a lot, sorry. You'll get used to it.”

Pepper smiled. “I'm sorry, your Papa is right, I should just tell you you're adorable all on your own, leave him out of it entirely.” She smirked, and he giggled. She sat down and gave Tony an all-business look. “Though I see what you mean about complications. I guess we need to talk?” She suddenly noticed Bruce and Steve, and gave them each a quick nod and a smile, which they returned.

Tony shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, unable to settle his eyes, and Steve took pity on him. “Hey, Mario, looks like you're almost done with breakfast, you want to go down to the gym and see what Aunt Nat and Uncle Clint got you?”

Mario perked up, then hunched in on himself a little. Tony tried to smooth his hair and brush off the worst of the crumbs. “Go on, _bello_ , have yourself some fun. Do you want to walk, or do you want Uncle Steve to carry you?” Mario bit his lip, then held out his arms to Steve. “OK, now what you say is, 'please carry me, Uncle Steve,' ok?”

Mario concentrated for a moment. “Pwease cawwy me, Unka Teve?”

Steve visibly melted a little. “I would be happy to, little one.” He scooped the toddler up in his arms and held him close. “Let's go have some fun, huh?” He glanced around. “Nice to see you, Pepper. Tony, Bruce, I'm guessing I'll see you down there in a bit?” Mario went back to looking a little worried.

Tony smiled at him. “You go with Uncle Steve now, I'll be down in a little while, ok? I just have to talk to Aunt Pepper about some things, and then you can show me what you've been learning, sound good?” Mario nodded, though a little uncertainly, and clung to Steve as he was carried down the stairs. Tony sighed as he turned back to his coffee mug, ruthlessly suppressing the urge to run after them, pluck _his baby boy_ out of Steve's arms, and never ever let him go again. “Yeah, he's gonna be a bit clingy for a while. I think he's been pretty touch-starved, poor kid.”

Pepper couldn't hold it in any longer. “Tony, where did he come from? I mean, he's pretty obviously yours, but-”

Tony gave her a haunted look. “Remember that thing in Bangkok, I disappeared for a couple days?”

She shuddered in years-old fear. “And when you came back, you couldn't remember anything for the whole time, and you said you must have been really drunk...”

He grimaced in response, trying and failing to smile. “Yeah, not so much with the drunk. Looks like what happened was, I was grabbed by AIM, to get material for their cloning labs. He's the only survivor of that round of testing, and last week they decided it was time for a new round. Good thing I've got a team of superheroes at my back now.” His voice had that artificial lightness that indicated he didn't want to talk about it anymore if he could help it.

Pepper just reached out and clasped his hand. She gave him silent support for a minute or two, then pulled back and into her normal brisk efficiency. “So, you have a son. How do you want to handle this? We probably need to put out some sort of press release...”

Bruce cleared his throat diffidently. “He should probably see a pediatrician, too, and maybe a psychologist. And he's going to need socializing, with other kids his age...”

Tony groaned and rested his forehead on the table. “And he's going to need a security detail if he goes anywhere, just cause he's my kid, nevermind the damn supervillains that I just _bet_ want him back. Dammit, can I just lock him in the tower for the next fifteen or twenty years?” His head came up sharply, a manic gleam in his eye. “Hey, you know, we've been trying to make SI more family friendly, we could totally put in, like, a daycare now, and a coupla schools in the next few years, right? No, wait.” He waved one hand. “Home schooling. We'll do the social center thing, but he's basically me, he's gonna be way too smart for normal school anyway, so... Brucey and I can cover maths and sciences, I'm sure Steve'd love to get English and history, and Nat can get all the socio-political stuff. It's perfect.”

Bruce chuckled dryly. “Thank you so much for volunteering us.” He reached out and patted Tony's hand. “You know what? I can manage the basic pediatric stuff for now, we can worry about more in-depth things once he's a little more settled. Maybe we can get someone from SHIELD to come look at him...” Tony clutched his hand for a moment, then nodded. Bruce nodded back. “For now, I'm going to go supervise whatever madness is happening in the gym. Good luck with this one, Pepper.” He finished his tea and headed out.

Pepper smiled as she waved him away, then massaged her temples. “We don't have to decide on his schooling just yet either. Right now I'm worried about getting his paperwork in order, figuring out what to tell the general public about where he came from, that sort of thing. Can we please focus?”

Tony restlessly got up, refilled his coffee mug, and leaned against the counter, fidgeting with the knife block. “Right, yes, of course. I'm thinking, we say I had some sort of brief fling, the mother never contacted me 'cause, I dunno, she wasn't sure if it was me or some other guy, something. Anyway, we say she's just died, we could go noble and tragic here, some sort of illness, or sad and pathetic, she OD'd on something, I could go either way with that, and CPS tracked me down. And now, of course, I want the very best for my offspring, which includes the press not hounding him, people not bothering us on the street, that sort of thing.”

Pepper was making notes on her StarkPhone. “Actually, that's good, at the press conference we should definitely emphasize you guys wanting to be treated like a normal family, being able to go to the zoo without being mobbed by autograph hunters, some little detail like that, the PR folks will come up with a good one. Do you want to have him actually at the press conference, do you want to just show a picture of him, or do you not want his picture out there at all?”

Tony made a grumbly noise deep in his throat and came back to sit at the table. “Definitely not option A, that's way too much for him right now. Much as I would love option C, people have cameraphones, his picture's going to get out, better we control it than it gets leaked.”

She made another note. “I'm guessing you don't want a PR lackey making the actual announcement. You want to do it yourself?”

He nodded emphatically. “Of course. I'll even do a little Q&A, but you might want to be around to step in for that part, we both know how I get.” He grinned ruefully, then looked startled and smacked himself upside the head. “Oh, right, and I'm definitely going to be taking as much parental leave as I can get away with. Unpaid, I'm not going to drain the company for this, and I'll still be in the building for the really important stuff, but I don't want to be down in the regular meetings and lab times when I could be up here with him, you know?”

She grinned at him. “I think we can make that happen. We'll have to put something in your speech about how wonderfully progressive SI's parental leave policies are. Yeah, that all sounds good.” She paused, then set her phone down and clasped her hands around Tony's, which were wrapped around his coffee mug. “So, Mr. Stark, how are you adjusting to being a father?”

His whole body started a fine trembling. In his best imitation of Jarvis, he forced out, “Ms. Potts, I believe I shall go insane.” His hands twisted around to clutch at hers desperately. “Seriously, Pep, how do people do this? I'm more terrified now than I was during the kidnapping! God, I want a drink...” He pulled one hand free to scrub at his face. “And I can't, I know I can't, God, the last thing I want is to turn into Howard and make Mario grow up the way I did, but everywhere I look I see something that could hurt him, or worse-” He waved a hand roughly, pushing away that image. “And then I simultaneously want to teach him everything about everything, and never teach him anything about the big bad world. Hah, even though I know that ship has completely sailed, I just, I wish I could erase all of that, really truly give him the childhood with the mom, you know?”

He got up, so suddenly he nearly knocked his chair over, and started pacing around the kitchen. “And I have _no idea_ what I'm doing! I told him we'd get him a bed, but maybe it's better if he sleeps in mine? And I tried to give him choices with his clothes and things, but the _look_ he gave me! And maybe I'll be too permissive! God, the whole damn team is already wrapped around his finger, he's going to be extorting shit from all of them whenever he wants... Shit, and I'm going to have to start watching my language, and I have no idea how to really talk to a kid that young, I've basically just been narrating and hoping that's good enough, what if I'm further stunting his growth by not talking to him the right way?” His hands were waving wildly, trying to illustrate some of the problems.

Pepper stepped into his path and wrapped her hands gently around his wrists. “Tony, breathe. C'mon, deep breath.” He stared at her as he fought his breathing into line, and she smiled at him. “There you go. Nice deep breaths. Now, I know this isn't going to be much of a comfort to you, but this is all perfectly normal things to be thinking when you become a parent. Seriously, ask any parent ever, they'll say they've had at least one 'I'm a bad parent' freakout, so don't get upset that you feel like this.” She led him back to his seat and sat them both down. “So, the more important part. Tony, I know you. Remember the proof you have a heart? You _want_ to do right by him, so you will. Which is not to say you won't screw up, but it won't be in big ways, and you'll apologize and fix your mistake, and he won't be any more messed up than any other kid growing up in the 21st century. Right?”

He took a couple more deep breaths and looked at her with gratitude naked on his face. “Right. Yes, I can do this, I've done a dozen things no one else has ever done, I can do something people have been doing for millennia. Right.”

She patted his hand. “It's not like you're trying to do it alone. If you get overwhelmed, you've got the rest of your team, you've got me and Happy, I bet even Dummy could keep him occupied for an hour or two. You'll figure it out.”

He grinned. “Oh, thank you for reminding me. I'll have to introduce him to his bot-brothers later.” He patted her hand back. “Thanks for talking me down. I clearly needed that. So, you probably have to get to your real job, should we talk about the plan for the press conference?”

She shook herself back into professional mode and looked over the list on her phone. “OK, so we'll prepare you a statement and get it to you at least a couple hours beforehand, it'll talk about his lost mother, we'll probably play up the sympathy as much as we can on that, you stepping up, the parental leave, we'll ask for privacy and discretion for a child...” She shot him a narrow eyed look. “I trust that you will keep to the cards as prepared, not start improv'ing anything?” He gave her an overly innocent look back. “That's what I thought. So, JARVIS can give us a couple of nice stills for the reporters to take away, maybe a short video to play during...” She caught the shaky look he wasn't trying hard enough to hide and pulled him into a hug. “It's ok, Tony, you're doing fine, this is just another press conference, you've done a thousand of them, and then you and the rest of this crazy group are going to start raising the smartest, wisest, noblest little boy who ever lived.”

He clung to her for a moment. “Thank you.” He pulled back a bit without breaking the hug, just enough to look her in the face. “Do you wish- Are you sorry he's not yours? Ours? I-”

“Oh, Tony.” She tugged him close again and spoke into his hair. “I love you, I do. But we would never have worked as a couple, let alone co-parents. I am perfectly happy to be Aunt Pepper and spoil him and then give him back to you. And someday you'll be Uncle Tony for my kids, however and with whomever they happen. I- Are _you_ sorry he isn't mine?” She sneaked a look at him.

He shrugged a little. “Honestly? Dating you... it seemed like the next logical step, right? But you're right, we didn't fit that way, and I'm not upset, I'm just...” He nuzzled into her hair, and his next words were so soft she nearly missed them. “I'm lonely...”

She hugged him tight, then let him go and sat back. “You've got friends here, Tony. Family. And I think if you're ready for real, marriage-is-a-partnership love, you'll find it. Don't give up just because you and me didn't work out, ok?”

He gave her a slightly watery smile. “For a long time, I said you were the best thing to ever happen to me. I want you to know, you'll always and forever be in the top three. Well, maybe top five, depends if I get the Mars Lander to work right...” They were both grinning now, even if their eyes were shining. “And I can't wait to meet your someday kids.” He gave his whole body a cleansing shake, then gave her one of his usual charming grins. “Thank you very much, Ms. Potts, I think that will be all for now.”

Pepper hugged him quickly, then stood and gathered up her purse, phone, and coffee. “Very good, Mr. Stark, I'll send up the paperwork from HR soon. Enjoy your parental leave.” She smiled, squeezed him one last time, turned, took two steps toward the elevator, then stopped and turned back. “Oh, geeze, I can't believe, I almost forgot.” She pulled her phone back out. “The birth certificate. What's his full name?”

Tony broke out in a grin that was beaming but still somehow shy. “Mario Grant Stark.”


End file.
